Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Oh man, big stuff is happening!

We have a date to sign the lease this week for the new Playground space.

(The current Playground is still going strong, the second one is bigger and crazier and will be the home for a fabulous new thing.)

We have a date to start painting.

Everything is moving. It is all very exciting/terrifying/wonderful. Anyway…. hello, week! Hello, very personal ads. I really need this.

Thing 1: Creating, entering and exiting a chrysalis.

Here’s what I want:

Yesterday my morning glow-sitting (that’s what metaphor mouse and I call “meditation”) informed me very emphatically that I need a chrysalis.

I may possibly have rolled my eyes.

More specifically:

It seems I have crossed some very significant internal bridges over the past few weeks, and now the Director and I are very close. The Director is the version of me who can run the new and gigantic Playground Cooperative that we’re opening.

She’s calm, capable, competent, confident, wickedly funny and completely, delightfully, unapologetically sure about what she wants.

She has the superpower of knowing that Nothing Is Wrong and that perfect simple solutions are there for the asking. She wears awesome shoes.

We’re really close to each other now. And the thing that’s needed is the biggest and most important step:

A safe and sturdy CONTAINER of three days and three nights of complete seclusion, during which I become her and she becomes me. Or really, I become more her and she becomes more me. Anyway, it’s a chrysalis.

Apparently this is what I get for thinking that a nest might be too over the top. Great. Something even more cheesy and dramatic. I find this hilarious.

Ways this could work:

I can do an OOD about this and get the monsters onboard.

The monsters are seriously skeptical about the whole thing, which is a sign that yes, it *is* as crazy as it sounds and also it’s important.

I could decide to go dark.

I could check into the Hidden Hotel.

We’re going to need tools. So tools!

I’ll play with…

Assuming that this is important and that it does need to happen.

Because information delivered via glow sitting always turns out to be worth listening to. As rigorous internal studies have shown.

And committing to finding a way.

Thing 2: Shhhh secretive invisible Playground play days.

Here’s what I want:

Today I’m telling twenty people — twenty people who live near the Playground and have already rallied so they know how to have strong force fields – about two invisible secret play days happening at the Playground this month.

One of which will include an Enthusiastic. Yay!

I am hoping that some of these beautiful people will be able to join me in playtime magic, even though it’s super last minute.

Because the Director said that this was the first step. And that it’s VERY important.

Wenn schon denn schon. Im kvar az kvar.

Ways this could work:

I’m making the wish and putting it here.

I’ll play with…

Resting in the hammock in the Playground’s Refueling Station.

Visiting the new Playground space and the current Playground space (soon to be the Playground Caboose), and talking to them about play.

Thing 3: Tu B’shvat

Here’s what I want:

This Wednesday is Tu B’shvat.

Tu B’shvat is the birthday of the trees.

Isn’t that completely delightful and magical and play-worthy? I think so too!
I want to celebrate.

Ways this could work:

Secret play day at the Playground, of course.

Dates and figs and almonds.

Visit the park.

Ask the trees.

I’ll play with…

Writing a love letter.

Like the one I wrote EXACTLY two years ago to the current Playground.

I just reread that one and did you know? Everything came true, only a million times better than I could have possibly imagined.

Thing 4: Answering the questions.

Here’s what I want:

I have some questions that I’m sitting with right now.

They need time and space.

I need time and space.

I want safe ways to go inward and investigate.

I want time and a process.

Ways this could work:

The chrysalis could resolve this.

A cafe date.

Planting the wish.

I’ll play with…

Doing Shiva Nata on it and generating some creative epiphanies.

Thing 5: Closing all the doors.

Here’s what I want:

There are still more things that need closing.

Still more doors that don’t need to be open.

Let’s move on this.

Ways this could work:

Lots of stone skippings.

Asking curious, loving questions. Patiently.

I’ll play with…

Asking for help from a Negotiator.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I had an ask about reconciling my desire for seclusion with my desire for community. Progress! Feeling good about the upcoming Enthusiastic and play days, and about my chrysalis as things that have emerged from last week’s ask.

Also I noticed that this week it was much easier to give time to Emptying and Replenishing, which gave me more space for being with people.

I wanted more overlap between the blog world and the PDX world and my roller derby world. Nothing to report on that but as the next bout gets closer I will update.

Then I wanted to fill out more forms (shhh, that’s secret agent code for doing yoga), and, ASTONISHINGLY, I forgot that I asked this. But I filled out forms like mad all week. So it totally worked. Yay. I re-ask this one, because it’s been amazing.

Next I wanted ERM (Emergency Recovery Mode), and that worked too! I feel terrific. And everything came together to help.

And I wanted to tell you guys about the end of Early Brunch for the Floating Playground. And I did. Today is the last day you can get half off tuition. We’re close to full. Maybe I will see you there.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Very Personal Ads #133: doobie doo just filling something out
• Very Personal Ads #132: The Wiktory! It Is Ours!
• Hi there, qualities of the voyage that is 2012.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Hey, Friday. Good to see you.

I’m getting better at remembering how this works.
Slowly, slowly.

Friday is picking up the Mercury. Friday is closing tabs. Friday is stretching to candlelight. I like you, Friday.

The hard stuff

The weekend.

The weekend was just really, really hard.

I’m going to silent retreat on the details, but hard hard hard hard.

Things that are lost and keep staying lost.

What an awful feeling.

Especially when you’re beyond beyond beyond beyond tired. Because then you can’t even begin to retrace your steps or figure out where something lost might be, or if it ever was there to begin with.

Not having a document that I need.

And then uncovering an old, painful stuck pattern at play that I totally thought was taken care of.

Not feeling strong.

There’s a certain vibrancy or vitality that cannot be present during depletion, and this is not fun for me.

My body really wants to move, and it’s also not ready to yet.

See also: that one dance class where I single-handedly demonstrated what it looks like to crash and burn ridiculously hard in public. With style!

When one thing isn’t working with my body, all the other forms and structures that hold my life together change too. Still trying to figure this one out. Getting closer, but sometimes close isn’t enough.

An uncomfortable realization.

It doesn’t translate well.

But basically….

Things are like this! I want them to be like that! But this is not news! But I still don’t like it! But I haven’t found a way out yet!

So this is what I’ll be playing with this week. Skipping stones, writing an OOD, finding out what I need to move through this.

The good stuff

The lost things found themselves.

They just appeared.

It was bizarre, but I am happy about it.

The superpower of Not Being Even Slightly Worried About Anything.

It didn’t come in the form that I was hoping for, but it’s still a really big deal.

At least now I know what that feels like. And the next step is to recreate that sensation without the accompanying tired.

Better news than I had even dared to hope for.

The bully from the Playground building is gone.

For good.

And I didn’t even have to do anything.

He removed himself.

The lease for the new space: it is so very close to signing!

Everything is looking great. The last round of lease negotiations went well, and I am feeling very excited. YAY!

Physical therapy.

That’s what Metaphor Mouse has me calling massage lately, so that I’ll actually set it up and make it happen.

Anyway, I had a spectacularly great physical therapy session this week.

Related: metaphor mousing saved my week.

I got lots of metaphor help this week, and it changed everything.

Meditation (something I love but often avoid) is now glow sitting.

LIstening to a yoga nidra recording is now internal sparkling.

Playlists for teaching are now secret soundtracks.

The process of “setting expectations” is now coming into the Practice Studio.

Anyway, metaphor mouse is how I got things done this week. And now I’m doing more of what I like, since changing all the names.

Spending time with my body and giving it loving attention.

A gorgeous partner yoga session (with Danielle as my partner).

Long, slow, old Turkish lady yoga at the Playground.

Magical, deep, circular yoga using symbols and words, also at the Playground. Something I invented after doing Shiva Nata. It was beautiful.

Progress.

Learning much more about how I want to live.

And about what needs to change.

Coming up with the perfect metaphor for that.

A brilliant session with Carolyn (remember when we had hackers?), and then help from Cairene too.

Also this helped me put up my castle in the Wish Room, and that made everything better.

Presents for the Playground!

Thank you thank you, everyone.

Extra thank yous to Laura and Foxy Jess!

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

1. I am Resistance Mouse!.
2. The second time I got fired.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is brought to you by Max, who is amazing, and who was at the last Rally (Rally!).

Sequencing the Chipmunk Genome.

They’re really loud. Except when they’re not.

And yes, rest assured that it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. You still have a chance to make it to a Rally (Rally!) in either March or June. Or September. Pretty much everything else is sold out.
2. There’s still HALF OFF on tuition for the magical Floating Playground. Good through February 5. That’s already Sunday, impossible as that sounds. Being at the Floop will be like Rallying Rally all the time.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #77: battle of the fake bands
• Friday Check-in #26: Abridged edition
• Friday Check-in #20: Snowpocalypse edition

I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to see you, February.

Partly because this past January kicked my ass so hard that I’m excited about change in any form whatsoever. And partly because you are a symbol of incredibly special things that are happening in my life.

But anyway, I’m really glad you’re here. I’m really glad I’m here.

And maybe we can even rewrite some of the sticking points we’ve had in our relationship in the past. Who knows? Anything is possible.

Hi.

Let’s talk superpowers.

First, the superpowers of January that I want to take with me.

So yes, January hit like a giant train wreck in a lot of ways. And making my way through that experience has landed me some serious superpowers.

Here are the ones I’m planning on keeping:

The superpower of Not Worrying About Anything.

I got to this one by way of being so completely exhausted and depleted that worrying about things just seemed like another tiring activity that I didn’t have energy for.

So I’m taking the freedom of that. Taking the feeling of Peace Breathes Through Me that comes from extreme zombie tired, without taking the tired and the non-functioning.

And I’m also taking the superpowers of Flexibly Structured Morning & Evening Rituals. And the superpowers of Being Exceedingly Cautious And Discerning About What Input I Allow Into My Space.

The superpowers I’d like to experience in February.

The superpower of feeling joyful and generous.

The superpower of wanting what I want. Unapologetically.

The superpower of CONGRUENCE.

The superpower of emptying and replenishing, so that play can be really playful.

Things I’m looking forward to in February.

February is the birthday of the trees!

February is stomping through puddles in the park in my BOOTS!

February is getting ready for Now We Are Six, the birthday celebrations of The Fluent Self, Inc, magical pirate ship at large.

February is new systems.

February has Rally (Rally!).

February (this February) is the DAY OF LEAP! That’s the day that the Floating Playground finally opens. That’s the day that we have access to the new and much bigger space for the real Playground. All the good things! They are happening!

And then it’s March. And March is spring. For me.

Things I’m feeling apprehensive about in February (and my plan!)

Ugh Valentine’s Day, ugh ugh ugh.

That pretty much sums it up.

The plan? Avoid the internet at all costs. Maybe also have an open Play Day at the Playground where other Fluent Self mice can hang out. Do some Shiva Nata on LOVE, because love is amazing.

And just generally avoid the annoying pink-romantic-straight-culture overkill.

Sleep please please please please.

I am crazy determined to outdo my current record of two whole nights in a row of uninterrupted sleep.

The plan? Keep doing what I’m doing. Stone skipping, yoga nidra, tea, ritual, support, practice.

The big change.

Things are changing, and it’s big.

The plan? Mission-ready. Mission-ready. Mission-ready. And lots of breaks. Entry and exit.

Things I would like to experience in February.

Harmonious interactions.

Spaciousness and blanket forts.

Choosing carefully. Preparing for the voyage.

Excitement and glee about where this is all going.

Trust and permission.

Silliness and movement.

Clues and allies for February.

You know how I like to go searching for clews.

So here are five that I am choosing for February, without having to figure out what they mean yet or how they’re going to work together.

1. The money tree in the kitchen.
2. The hidden castle.
3. The Cascadia flag.
4. The anchor
5. The color YELLOW.

And five resources or allies:

1. Barbara Sher.
2. Suzette Haden Elgin.
3. Michelle Marlahan.
4. Keren.
5. The gnome.

Here we go. Flipping the page.

Here’s the February image from the Playground calendar.

Play with me? And comment zen for today.

You are welcome to write your own Hello, February.

You could write February a letter, drop off some gwishes, or give it a new name.

(If you like, peek at other months — July and August and September and October and November and December and January.)

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff. Because without sovereignty and spaciousness, this whole thing falls apart.

And we make this a safe space by not telling each other what to do, how to be or how to feel. We make room for each other.

Wishing you the most beautiful and supportive February that could possibly be.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• When things aren’t working.
• Friday Chicken #182: I believe in sandwich gnomes.
• Very Personal Ads #131: whoah-struck!

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Thing 1: Outward and inward and outward and inward.

Here’s what I want:

All of my gwishes this week seem to be about my desire for community, and about my desire for seclusion.

I am convinced that these are not even slightly contradictory, and that they support each other in important ways, so I want to spend some time investigating.

Ways this could work:

I can make lists of things that symbolize community for me, as well as things that stand for separation, withdrawing and turning inward.

And I can practice things on both sides.

Some old Turkish lady yoga for inward. Convening an Enthusiastic for outward.

Also some shivanautical epiphanies could just make everything clear and obvious. Or at least show me what the next step is.

I’ll play with…

Giving permission.

Practicing the art of wanting what I want.

Thing 2: Speaking of community…

Here’s what I want:

Okay, so I talk about roller derby all the time.

About my relationship to derby. About how outrageously great it is.

And I also know a trillion people in Portland. Or maybe I don’t know all of them personally yet, but they know me through this blog. Hi, lovely people!

I want all of us going to bouts and yelling our heads off and having the time of our lives. YES.

Ways this could work:

Maybe I’ll set up a pre-bout meet-up.

Kay’s bar, anyone? Maybe?

That way, people who would like to come watch roller derby with me could meet up with me beforehand.

I’m more than happy to explain the rules or why a penalty is a penalty. And I promise I won’t try to recruit you. Unless you want me to.

Probably the Frolicsome Bar (that’s what we call our facebook page) would be the best place to set up an event like this and let people know. But maybe there’s another way that I haven’t thought of yet.

I’ll play with…

Planting the wish.

Possibly doing an OOD on it.

Thing 3: Filling out more forms. Yes.

Here’s what I want:

Filling out forms is my secret agent code for doing old Turkish lady poses.

Because that’s literally what you’re doing.

Filling. Out. A. Form.

Except it sounds so incredibly boring to fill out forms that my monsters don’t make a fuss the way they would if I were doing something sweet and loving like shhhhhh-slow-gentle-yoga.

This week I would like to fill out lots and lots of forms.

Maybe just one at a time. Maybe at different points during the day.

Ways this could work:

Paul’s non-sucky dvd, of course.

Using the Playground.

Before bed.

After Shiva Nata.

In between transitions and doors.

I’ll play with…

Inventing a superpower to go along with this.

Thing 4: Erm…

Here’s what I want:

Extreme Recovery Mode. Aka Erm!

Which, coincidentally, is also the sound I make right before I remember to yell “Silent Retreat!”

(And then I run away.)

Ways this could work:

Baths.

Soaking in hot pools.

Massage.

Not everything requires a response.

Hiding.

I’ll play with…

Going dark.

Ten breaths.

Permission and amnesty.

Thing 5: The Floating Playground! The last day for Early Brunch.

Here’s what I want:

This weekend is the last chance for extreme Early Brunch prices on the Floating Playground.

I want everyone who wants to be a part of the Floop (yes, that’s its nickname, apparently) to joyfully find their way there.

Ways this could work:

I’m telling you right now.

I’ll play with…

Putting the link here: http://TheFluentSelf.com/floating

Creating a supportive, creative environment of welcoming and belonging for everyone who wants to play. Yay!

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

Let’s see. I wanted an old laptop to play DVDs on at the Playground, and a bunch of you were crazy helpful! Still sorting out the details, but yay people who can help! That was amazing.

Then I wanted to focus on making eating beautiful. That was challenging, but it definitely showed up. I was more conscious about which plates to choose and how to arrange things. It’s on my mind. Progress.

The Playground (the live one, which is about to expand to a much larger space) needs ongoing art supplies, and I said I’d think about that. I liked Anna’s suggestion of an arts & crafts potluck picnic. We’ll have to see what that would look like. I might write a future ask on specifics.

I wanted smoothness with the lease, and the building’s owners agreed to all of the changes we wanted to make in the last round of lease negotiations, HOORAY!

And I asked for a joyful Rally (Rally!), and it was extremely, extremely full of joy. Yet again, the VPAs sneakily make everything better under the surface while I’m not paying attention.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #95: chickens on skates!
• Community.
• Object of Desire: Denver. You can help!

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Okay, this is getting to be a little ridiculous. Time, stop with the flying. I cannot believe it is Friday.

But apparently it is. Again!

The hard stuff

The one night where there was no back to sleep.

Morning began for me at one thirty. That is to say, not very long after midnight.

And it stayed morning.

And at 5:52 that song came on and it was really too much.

Overdoing.

Working way too hard, preparing way too hard, wanting way too hard.

So tired that I couldn’t remember people’s names.

This never happens, because it’s one of my superpowers.

It was disorienting and alarming and generally not fun.

Zombie fog.

I don’t really have anything else to say about that.

If it hadn’t been for the sandwich gnomes, I might have fallen apart completely.

Waiting.

It is not the thing I am best at.

Sadness.

Also not the thing I am best at.

That one horrible thing that was horrible.

I’ll silent retreat on that.

Rally goes by way too unfairly ridiculously fast, you guys!

It was Rally this week. Rally!

And I LOVE Rally and it always ends too soon.

The good stuff

Making things congruent.

Like deleting thirty numbers from phone. And renaming other ones. Sneakiness!

Like depiling a hundred piles of iguanas and doom.

Like revising my system of Anthologies.

Ohmygod Season Opener ohmygodohmygod GNR!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have been going out of my mind waiting for roller derby season to start up again.

It’s a lot of fun running trainings for the team I fanatically sponsor/support/live-for, but you know what’s really fun?

Watching them TEAR IT APART in an actual bout. Guns N Rollers destroyed the Heathers at the season opener, and I was proud and happy.
And here’s Amanda’s awesome recap, if you want it broken down.

It’s been a looooong time coming. I really needed that.

Our new drafts (Frank N Hurter and Scouts OnHer) looked amazing, I could not be more ecstatic about having Braidy Punch on the team this year, and everyone managed to do a lot of damage and have a good time. It was spectacular.

I have been happy about this all week, and I will CONTINUE to be happy about this for years.

And Juno made us scarves!

Juno!

Remind me to post a picture of Selma in her tiny little GNR scarf. It is adorable.

Lots of wonderful old Turkish lady yoga.

Happy happy happy rolling around on the floor.

Yay for being (theoretically/symbolically) old and Turkish.

The day of done.

One of the reasons I’m so wiped out is because two days this week were the DAYS OF GETTING MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF STUCK THINGS UNSTUCK AND DONE.

That was brilliant.

The Mirror Pool page.

I have been working on the Mirror Pool since September.

It is, among other things, the self-guided entrance exam-that-is-not-at-all-an-exam-but-actually-a-door for my new Floating Playground program.

I needed this page to be an experience. I needed it to be able to teach and to love and to reflect and transform, to set culture and release expectations at the same time. I needed it to do all sorts of things. And I needed it to do MAGIC.

It was a ton of work, and just reading the mirror pool page is basically the equivalent of a graduate program in destuckifying. In fact, if you were to use it as a training manual, which you totally could, it would be worth your entire tuition just for that.

Anyway, getting it ready for the public (and getting me ready to show it to the public) was a big, important process. And this week it happened.

7500 words. We ask people to give it an hour of undivided attention and process, with conscious entry and exit. It’s INTENSE.

But it does the thing it was meant to do. And that, in and of itself, is extraordinary.

The beautiful things people have said about the Mirror Pool page.

Thank you to everyone who emailed and DMed to say how powerful/beautiful/transcendent the experience of visiting the Mirror Pool was.

I cannot even tell you how much I appreciate that.

The Floating Playground is already close to full!

Despite the fact that I have hardly done anything at all to tell people about the fact that it exists.

This is a very good sign.

Rally (Rally!)

This week was Rally (Rally!), and Rally was sublime.

Rally #16 was full of shining, beautiful wonderful surprises, and I madly love every single person who was there.

It was absolutely magical, and I don’t know what to say other than that. Mmmm, Rally glow.

The Enthusiastic.

We convened a fabulous Enthusiastic at Rally, and it was the most fun and inspiring experience.

A thing I thought was going to be really hard turned out to be really great!

And now I don’t need to spend today getting the Playground ready for the sparkling cleaning Heinzelmaennchen.

(Related: I am a supergenius! Though, yes, it took being very-much-not-a-supergenius fifteen times in a row in order to get to that point.)

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

Tabstravaganza! Or: what’s Havi been up to with all those open Firefox tabs?

• Anna wrote beautifully about a music-related Shiva Nata epiphany: you should definitely read this.
• You guys! Steph is amazing! She made these gorgeous scarves that will be for sale in the Playground Toy Shop. Excitment! I will buy the first one and wear mine the second it arrives.
  Also she has the best tagline ever: I knit so I don’t kill people.
• Loved the drawing in this sweet post from a blog reader: Logistics Me is 400 pounds and is sitting on top of Adventure Me.
• Here are some notes from the monster manual. And did you see this drawing?! I love it when people post pictures of their colored-in monsters!
• She said very seriously, Max I’m so sorry I can’t talk right now – I have to pay total attention to this cake.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

1. My stuck isn’t talking and also there is a trapeze.
2. What is true? What else is true?
3. Internal Courtroom Drama.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is brought to you via Rally #16!

Emergency Little Book of Poems

They play quiet, sweet little pieces, lots of harmonies.

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. Early brunch prices on the Floating Playground (aka the Floop!) are good for TWO MORE DAYS. January 29 is the last day for that. That’s Sunday.
2. If you want to come to a Rally (Rally!) this year, do it! Most of the 2012 Rallies are already full. There are openings in March, May, July and September.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #174: Poor me, a cup! Pour me a cup!
• Object of Desire: Denver. You can help!
• Stories about the relationship between money and time. Part 1.

Or really, as it soon became clear, a list of things I didn’t know that I knew about nests.

On the surface, I don’t have a lot of thoughts about nests. In fact, prior to last week, I would have described myself as INDIFFERENT when it comes to nests.

But I was using the idea of a nest as a proxy for a project I was working on. And a nest seemed like a good example of something that I don’t care about that might be important.

From my notes:

Nests are the embodiment of SHELTER.

Much like a sukkah or a blanket fort (or a cocoon), nests can be temporarily constructed for a purpose and then be released/shed/deconstructed/taken-apart.

Nests exist to be a container for a very specific purpose or place in time:

• For a season.
• For a resting period.
• For an incubation.
• For however long it takes to grow something.

Things can be nested inside of other things.

Also nestled, which for me has connotations of things like [+cozy] [+aligned] [+snug] and [+comfort].

Nesting dolls are containers for each other.

But they’re also containers (nests!) for mystery and surprise and delight.

There is something intricate about a nest.

For me, if I were breaking down the word into my personal associations (a la metaphor mouse), NEST would include:

[+intentional] [+craftsmanship*] [+gathered] [+organic] [+sheltering] [+slow process] [+transition] [+comfort] [+softeness] [+growing stronger] [+sinking into] [+release] [+shavasana] [+knowledge] [+experience]

* Though if a bird crafts it, isn’t that craftsbirdship? It kind of should be, if only because that is a crazy-awesome-looking word.

Nests are containers, but it’s more than that.

Nests are doors. Nests are homes.

• The Playground is a nest for Rally (Rally!).
• Rally is a nest for changing how you make progress on mysterious and not-mysterious projects.
• The ship is a nest for the voyage.
• The Refueling Station is a nest for releasing.
• The (opening-next-month!) Floating Playground is a nest for process and for feeling like you belong in your life.
• Shiva Nata is a nest for transformation and rewriting patterns (and for being the eye of the storm).
• Hoppy House is a nest for learning how to feel at home.
• My body is a nest for learning how to be at home.
• My heart is a nest for hiding and for being loved.
• My cells are nests for blueprints.

And so on.

Tinier and tinier.

Like nesting dolls. Or nesting nests.

How do you know that you know how to build a nest?

The knowledge for how to build a nest (or to invoke a nest) is very… internal.

This stuff isn’t covered in manuals. It’s a thing you need to remember that you know.

There are maps and plans hidden inside the bones of my wings, but first I have to remember that these things exist.

What is powerful about a nest?

Hidden strength.

What is useful about a nest?

Being separate and hidden.

(That could mean above or deep).

When is a nest not a nest?

When you are done with it, and then it can be taken apart or turned into something else.

What happens to me when I am nesting?

I am the complete cycle: mother and infant (in the archetypal sense, not in the about-to-go-to-Bolivia sense).

Caring and being cared for at the same time.

An internally directed cycle.

Also, any nest is really a nest-in-progress. Nests aren’t done. You can always tweak, alter and change. Lovingly maintaining a nest is part of the experience.

What else is a nest?

Well, safe rooms are a form of nests.

My relationship with X was a training ground for me to learn very specific things.

It wasn’t the soft comforting sort of nest, but it was the kind of nest that Mr. Miyagi might build to teach you how to wax on and wax off.

A bootcamp nest? Ewwwwwwww. Oyvavoy. Not that. More like how I’m Bruce Wayne, and the bat cave is a nest. Ahhhhhhhh. Got it.

Right now all the training that I’m doing to get mission-ready is a nest.

AND all the resting that I’m doing to get mission-ready is also a nest.

How do I know that I’m done with a nest?

Okay, so in my personal world of nests, there is no being unceremoniously dropped out.

That is a distortion. That is my pain experience. It’s from then.

In my world of nests, there’s a moment in which I know I am done.

And then the next adventure — which is itself a new and bigger nest — just appears. And the previous nest dissolves.

In I allow my nests to expand and contract as necessary.

And even when I’m flying, the experience of flying is a nest.

My relationship with the experience of flying is also a nest.

Every tree is a nest. Each new opening is a nest.

What is next?

Trusting what I know.

Trusting the nest.

Trusting the me who built it.

Play with me! The commenting blanket fort.

This is my process. It’s personal and a little vulnerable. What I would like: loving sighs. No advice, no analysis. Making space for my understanding of nests to be different than yours if that’s the case.

If you’d like, you can find out what you know about nests and use that as a proxy for something else you’re working on.

Or you can find out what you know about something else (like curtain rods or clouds) and that will probably tell you useful things as well.

Or you can sit here with me and drink tea. Or not tea. Whatever you like.

Usual comment zen applies. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. We play. We make room for each other.

Love, as always, to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• The Rule of Absolutely Absolutely.
• When things aren’t working.
• This is where I live.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

You guys! I have no voice today because I screamed my head off at the roller derby season opener last night.

Our badass Guns N Rollers killed it. Final score: 164-56.

This has been a long time coming. I’ve been a sponsor for three seasons and a fan for twice that, and I have yet to see a bout like this.

You know I run agility trainings for the team twice a month, right? With some destuckification basics thrown in for good measure.

Anyway, I’ve written my share of roller-derby-related Very Personal Ads. And it felt so good to watch this WELL-DESERVED victory and know that I got to be a part of it.

So let’s have some cheering for GNR!

Okay, on to the VPAs.

Thing 1: An old laptop computer for the Playground

Here’s what I want:

I need a computer at the Playground. Except I won’t be using it for anything other than playing yoga dvds. Only the non-sucky ones, of course. So it doesn’t need to be in great shape, as long as I can do that.

It needs to be a laptop so that I can easily move it from room to room.

I’m hoping that someone in my circle of people can donate one or know someone else who has one that’s close to retirement. Maybe someone who will be at an upcoming Rally (Rally!) could be a connection too.

Playground computer! I will adore you and appreciate you!

Ways this could work:

I’m putting it here!

I’ll play with…

Doing an OOD on it.

Trusting that the right thing will show up at the right time.

* I cannot WAIT until the Floating Playground opens. We’ll have an entire board just for doing OODs and I will pretty much live there. OODs! It will be the best.

Thing 2: Making eating beautiful.

Here’s what I want:

I have been looking at these gorgeous pictures of a shabbes meal (yes, urban frum pictures), and feeling so completely inspired and enthusiastic.

We eat such amazing food at Hoppy House, but what if the setting reflected how beautiful the food is? That seems like it could be another important part of entry.

So I’m going to think about that.

I won’t be able to play with it this week because I’ll be at Rally (Rally!), but maybe some aspect of my mysterious Rally project will work as a fractal flower for this too.

Ways this could work:

I could make a list or collection of colors, styles and images that appeal to me.

And start investigating.

I’m not ready to commit to buying stuff or even for looking in stores. But to plant the seed, and to connect to the symbolic essence:

Color. Nourishment. Dedicated time and space to an experience. Commitment. Presence. Delight. Rejoicing. Sweetness. Welcoming. Belonging. Home.

It has to do with setting things up for the way I want to live. And with presents for future me.

Again, the important part isn’t the stuff. The important part is intentionally preparing for the voyage.

I’ll play with…

Interviewing myself about what I already know about this.

Thing 3: The Playground needs a bunch of things in an ongoing way.

Here’s what I want:

The Playground pretty much always needs things like costumes and stickers and art supplies and coloring books.

And cushions!

And magazines that we can cut up for Reflectings. (I swear it’s not collage! Okay, fine, it looks like collage….)

Since we’ll be taking over a new and much bigger space in March, we will need even more of all of these.

I want a way to keep a steady flow going without having this be my permanent VPA.

Ways this could work:

We could make a page for the Playground site listing needs (ongoing and special-occasion).

And then I could link to it from the Chicken or remind people at the Frolicsome Bar now and then…

We could also post some more about it on the Playground bulletin boards…

I’ll play with…

Talking this over with the Director (who is the me-who-is-on-her-way).

Asking smart, loving questions, and staying open to being surprised.

Thing 4: Smoothness with the lease!

Here’s what I want:

We’re in what is (I hope!) our last round of lease negotiations for the new space.

We’ve had all sorts of wise and capable people weigh in.

And now we’re ready for everything to sort itself out smoothly and easily so that we can enter the space March 1st.

Ways this could work:

I can do the alignment exercise with the building owners again.

I can plant the wishes.

I can talk it out with slightly future me.

I’ll play with…

Dressing like the Director.

Talking to the building.

Humming its favorite song.

Thing 5: A joyful Rally!

Here’s what I want:

This week is Rally, and Rally is my favorite thing in the entire world.

I want to feel energized. I want to take good care of myself.

I want to stick to my experiment of not answering any questions whatsoever (except at lunch, of course!).

Ways this could work:

It just could.

Rally is magic.

I’ll play with…

Going on silent retreat when I need to.

Lots and lots of shivanautical silliness.

Drawing monsters from the monster coloring book.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I wanted a word for the act of making things congruent, and I didn’t find one. But somehow it didn’t matter, because the congruencing happened anyway.

And that was my second ask. It was BRILLIANT. I depiled the piles, threw away the old, moved the new, and deleted half of my phone contacts. Yay.

I wanted doors that need closing to stay closed. And that’s working.

Then I wanted to find out in what way certain things that do not appear to be good are actually good. That was a remarkably useful question, and I’m glad I asked.

And I wanted ease-filled happy signing-of-the-lease, and we are so much closer on that. We got terrific feedback from our attorney and from the plumber. We enjoyed the walk-through. Our realtor has been amazing. It’s all moving in the right direction.

Plus I wrote 7,000 words about a thing I’d been stuck on.

Oh, and the thing I didn’t ask for out loud totally happened too. Well done, me-from-last-week! Sparklepoints all around.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #145: Potter? I hardly even know her.
• Friday Chicken #128: we would theoretically rock it here or there
• I am Resistance Mouse!

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

This week absolutely zooooomed by.

I’m not even sure how that happened.

And it felt like a pretty good week after these past few extra-extra-challenging ones.

(And everyone breathes a sigh of IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME.)

Anyway, let’s do this. Let’s see what happened.

The hard stuff

So much going on.

The mind. It boggles.

Endings.

They’re a big deal.

Even when you think you’re ready.

Transitions can involve a lot of work.

This weekend was the end of three years of running my Kitchen Table program, an amazing online community of smart, creative, good-hearted people.

Surprisingly, I felt really comfortable and unconflicted about the ending: I am ready for the new thing, and the new thing holds many of the beautiful qualities of the old thing, but it is new and different. And this is the time for exiting.

But transitions are still hard. And sometimes exhausting. There was also a lot of work involved with this particular ending.

Related: I worked the whole weekend, and that sucked.

I try to not work weekends, and last weekend was nothing but work.

And this was not a good way to enter the week, so…. never doing that again. You heard it here first!

Oh, iguanas. Why must you be so iguana-like?

This week had giant piles of iguana and doom, except without the doom.

But definitely iguanas. Or things that were not iguanas but I feared that they were, and so I kind of accidentally turned them into iguanas.

Anxious about a meeting.

The meeting actually went brilliantly, but I had to work through a lot of my own crap to get to the point of being ready for it.

Lots of preparing for the voyage, which was lovely and important. But I got to see what I’m afraid of, and that wasn’t always pretty.

A very tiny misunderstanding.

It got sorted out quickly, but in the moment when it happened… so painful.

Ugh buying clothes is the worst. For me!

So I went out to get clothes for the Director (who is a version of slightly future me).

Gaaaaaaaaaaah. I am so disastrously bad at this.

I never know what to do. Or what anyone is saying.

And it reminds me of my first semester of university in Tel Aviv when I took a course on archaeology and didn’t understand half the class because guess what there are a ridiculous number of words for types of pots.

So of course people at shops always want to know if you prefer a skinny-leg something-something or a slouchy wocka wocka or a boyfriend-style foo-foo-foo, and I DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT.

And then I feel stupid and lost. It’s horrible.

Also why have shops been full of ruffled things for the past however many years? When will it stop?!

I generally tend to self-identify as kind of a low-to-medium femme (maybe even someone who could pass as high femme under duress?), but really I would rather walk around in my underwear than be covered in ruffles and frilly bits.

Although my Partner-in-Crime lent me her sweater so I could look like a grown-up at a meeting, and it had ruffles and I was the cutest grown-up ever, so possibly I need to be less harsh in my anti-ruffle stance.

Anyway, feh. Clothes-buying. I just want to have them magically appear in my closet and skip the whole process.

The good stuff

I got four incredibly hard things done on Friday and Saturday.

Things that I wasn’t able to do over the past several weeks, even though they were really taking up a lot of space in my mind.

It felt so good to have that piece finished.

Coming to a decision about something that had been stuck.

I know what I want now.

And I’m okay with wanting it. That feels great.

Bryan!

Remember when I put out a very personal ad post asking for Long, Slow & Deep? And Gaye sent it to me!

This week was the week of doing yoga with Bryan in my living room.

And it was exactly, exactly, exactly what I needed.

Actually, there was lots of yoga this week. Paul-style non-sucky yoga. Some psoas-intensity with Jill. And of course old Turkish lady yoga at the Playground.

Massive progress on the Wish Room.

My much-neglected home office now has lovely periwinkle walls.

And lots and lots of cushions.

Progress!

Congruence. Tiny, baby steps count. For a lot.

I threw things out.

Moved them around.

Change. It’s time.

Many steps closer to the director.

There was an outrageously fruitful meeting with our magical and aptly-named realtor Hope.

I noticed some apologetic shoulder-shruggy appeasement patterns from then that were getting in the way, and this helped me rewrite a letter to make it much more sovereign and in present time.

And now the Director has something to wear. Also a new wallet. Plus her winter boots arrived.

She is closer! it’s all closer!

The boots. Ohmylord the boots.

Guess how many women were in the bathroom on pub night? Guess how many asked me where I got my boots? Yes, it is the same number.

Seriously I cannot even describe how amazing — and Director-like! — the new boots are. The ones that I have been trying to work up the courage to get for her since August.

They’re here. They’re incredible. And I’m not sharing pictures yet because I can’t bear the thought of anyone else ever having them. Sorry.

Getting HELP with the clothing thing.

My friend Rebecca does not find clothing-buying traumatic, but thinks it’s fun. Yet again I am reminded of that familiar piece of Paul-Grilley-truth: people vary!

Anyway, Rebecca is the best. Rebecca took me out on a shopping excursion.

And this was marvelous because she translated for me and told me what to try on and knew all my sizes and was right about everything. Everything.

Plus I knew she was enjoying herself and not suffering along with me.

Also I discovered that it’s actually fun to get clothes for the Director, because my monsters actually want me to be investing in her (if anything, they’re upset about how I don’t respect her enough, even though of course they’re still against the purchasing of clothing for regular me).

Another lovely thing to discover: the Director has fabulously strong opinions. So everything is a clear yes or no. This is great, because when I get stuff for myself, the whole process always feels so doubt-filled and unsure.

Triple-yay.

Saved by the OOD.

Every time I hit a wall this week, the OOD made a new door.

The walk-through.

We did a more formal walk-through of the new Playground space.

With a giant entourage. Me, the First Mate, Partner-in-Crime, Hope the realtor-of-love, architect, plumber, electrician.

And some significantly-more-invisible friends.

It felt really good.

I know a lot more now about how this is going to work, and I’m excited!

A thing I’d thought was going to be crappy turned out to be fine.

That’s all I want to say about that, but yay.

(Also many thanks to Robin for giving me the word egregore, which is such a more beautiful and efficient way to describe something that generally takes me several paragraphs to sum up.)

End of an era.

After three years of running my Kitchen Table program, it came time for deconstruction. As in: taking apart the old and letting the new patterns come into form.

It was time. I was ready. And it feels right.

Also this meant that I had TWO EXTRA HOURS EVERY DAY THIS WEEK!!! Sorry that I’m shouting. It was a really big deal. And way, way, way less of people’s stuff being projected into my space.

I feel the same way I did when I first went on email sabbatical three years ago: Everything is different now.

And also: Who knew there was so much space?

Sweet sweet sleep.

No waking up at 3am this week. Except once.

HUZZAH!

I did it.

My imaginary personal trainer took me through her hardest workout, threatening-promising to break me in half.

And I made it. Bruce Wayne is proud. It was an awesome moment.

Rally starts on Monday!

There is nothing in the entire world that I like better than Rally (Rally!), and we are about to set off on that crazy gorgeous hilarious voyage again.

I can’t wait to find out what’s going to happen there.

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

• A letter from future me to me on my birthday, and now I’m almost there again.
• You don’t need to take the leap. (May, 2009)
• This one about planning without planning — it’s important.
• Also: we don’t need to be big. People forget this.
• Preparing for the arrival of a thing you really want.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band:

Subterranean Power Grab

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. I can always tell when people have the monster coloring book (and manual!) by the way they self-destuckify as their stuff comes up. It’s a combination of graciousness, curiosity and permission that is absolutely amazing to watch. I recommend this.
2. The whisper-brunch is happening for October’s Crossing the Line: the 8 Day Voyage! (password: haulaway). I still need to put up the Over-the-Moonials from last year. Though it’s probably going to be full before I get around to that.

That’s it for me …

And of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments if you feel like it.

Yes? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

We let people have their own experience, which means that we’re supportive and kind, and we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s okay if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #180: thrice substicushioned!
• Goodbye, November. Hello, December.
• Very Personal Ads #122: if you know what I mean…

By “thing”, I mean: Whatever it is that you do, or want to do, or think you should be able to tell people that you do.

Your internal culture is more important than your thing because your thing will change.

But the culture will hold itself.

Culture. Holds. Itself.

And the more time you spend learning about the qualities, the superpowers, the Book of You and all the other elements of your internal and external worlds, the stronger, more radiant and more sustainable that culture will be.

Postscripts.

The commenting blanket fort.

Usual comment zen applies. We make this a safe space.

We do that by agreeing that each person here takes loving ownership for his/her experience. We meet our questions and pain with love. We make room for each other. And we don’t tell each other what to do or how to feel. We play. We process. Sometimes we also call silent retreat, and that’s always okay too.

Kisses.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Beacons.
• Extremely short answers to things my people ask a lot.
• I went on a secret play date.

Also preparing for the voyage. Or preparing in general. And then doing a little Revue (with high kicks!) when it’s over, because I don’t like to review things but I like taking stock.

Sometimes I’m convinced there’s no time to enter and exit experiences.

But that’s pretty much always the time gremlins talking.

So we do the short version. And sometimes even the shortest version.

The short version for entry looks like this:

What do I want to feel? And what do I need?

And I usually direct the those questions towards slightly wiser me.

Notes about this practice!

You’ll know if you’ve encountered a monster who’s answering the questions for you.

You’ll know because the answers won’t be nice. Like this:

“What do you need? You need to stop being so lazy. Or maybe you could also stop being such a whiny little pain in the ass. That would be good too. What are you wasting your time for? Just do it!”

And you’ll know if you’ve encountered a sad, scared version of you and not slightly wiser you if the answer you get is really stressful. Like this:

“What do I need? I need EVERYTHING TO [insert stream of creative cursing in Arabic] WORK FOR A CHANGE, aaaaaaargh!”

So. The fuzzball monsters are allowed to have their opinions. And the sad, scared selves get to feel safe. Always. Safety first!

But you’re not asking them. You’re asking the part of you who knows.

This can take practice. Give it time. There’s time.

Okay. Back to the practice. Examples! From yesterday.

Examples of short-version entry…

Dance class.

What do I want to feel? Tough, competent, graceful, grounded, present.

And what do I need? Conscious breathing. And the superpower of knowing when I need to take breaks, and trusting that information.

Breakfast.

What do I want to feel? Joy and nourishment, intentional caring for myself..

And what do I need? Want what you want. It’s important.

A work thing that I don’t want to do.

What do I want to feel? Capable. Strong. Centered..

And what do I need? Use your force field. Plan without planning. Do the alignment exercise. It’s okay to take extra time to do an OOD because that will give you useful information for later. Also: this is a fractal flower!

Mini marathon-training.

What do I want to feel? Release.

And what do I need? Tissues. A pillow. Put the sign on the door so no one disturbs you.

Going to the bathroom.

What do I want to feel? The symbolic power of process: I am letting go of whatever my body is done with.

And what do I need? To remember that running off to pee is not a break. It’s not taking me away from my work of self-inquiry and it’s not separate from my life. It’s another way that I take care of myself.

The short version for EXIT.

Exit looks like this:

What worked? What might I try next time?

Examples of short-version exit…

Dance class.

What worked? Smiling! Music! Knowing that my body is my home and this is where I live.

What might I try next time? Coming a few minutes earlier to get a better spot.

Breakfast.

What worked? Doing entry!.

What might I try next time? Leave the pretty glass for the Strengthening Elixir out on the counter so we don’t forget. Maybe that glass needs a home?

A work thing that I don’t want to do.

What worked? Ohmygod doing the OOD helped so much!.

What might I try next time? I think I’d do it exactly like that! But maybe with a costume?

Mini marathon-training.

What worked? Putting on a nine minute song and knowing how long it would be..

What might I try next time? Turning off the sound on the phone.

Going to the bathroom.

What worked? That reminder that this is part of what I do, not separate from it.

What might I try next time? Naming the superpowers.

The even SHORTER version.

Entry: One quality. Example: Courage! And then: May it be received with love.

(I do this every time I press pooblish on a blog post. Or when I have a snack. Or when I go for a walk.)

Exit: One quality. Example: Support! And then: Thank you, experience.

And the SHORTEST version.

The shortest version involves knowing that everything is a door.

Including the experience you are about to enter, as well as the entry and the exit.

Entry: Hello, Door.

Exit: Goodbye, Door.

It’s all shorthand. The Hello includes all of the aspects of hello, without stating them. The Goodbye contains all the magic of endings.

Playing. And the commenting blanket fort.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.

The way this works is that we all agree to take loving ownership for our experience. And we create a safe environment by not giving unsolicited advice or telling each other how to feel.

Ways to play. So many! Because play is infinite possibility.

You could make up your own ways to enter and exit. No need to use mine. Or you can play with how you might find tiny ways to enter and exit. Or things in your day that could use mini entries and exits.

Or we could make sweet loving wishes for the parts of us who think this is way too much work.

And give our internal scientists the task of finding out how doing entry and exit changes our experience.

What I’m calling on: Receptivity, intelligence, curiosity and flow.

May it be received with love.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Hello, January.
• Exiting. In several ways at once.
• I have studied 17 months to be able to say this.